[USS Tempest] When Push Comes to Shove
- From: TKilyle@xxxxxxx
- To: usstempest@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Sat, 13 May 2006 06:22:35 EDT
When Push Comes to Shove
by Cassiel Calhoun and Leonard Mc Coy with Grelch and Stan Zelany
'When push comes to shove, sooner or later somebody's going to figure out
that 'push' and 'shove' mean the same damned thing'--anonymous
Grelch approached the marine outside the chief's office cautiously,although
he could barely contain his excitement, "There's a representative from
Starfleet Medical here to see the boss. He was doing an inspection tour of the
Fleming when they were diverted to pick up our charges."
The little Ferengi bounced from one foot to the other as he waited for a
response.
Stan didn't like Ferengis. They gave him the creeps but if the cap said not
to stuff him in a disposal chute than he wouldn't. He gave the little troll
a snort then pointed a finger at him. "Stay right there," he said then
added, "calm your ass down before he throws something at you."
Without another word, the Marine tapped the chime then stepped inside,
closing the door behind him.
"Hey, Doc, that midget troll's outside. Wants t'see you," he said with an
easy shrug.
"You mean Grelch?" Cassiel snorted with amusement, bright eyes dancing. He
looked at the stack of PADDs on the desk then back up. "Gods know that I
have nothing else to do. Send him in but stay here."
The little med tech. entered,looking warily at the Marine before turning to
the doctor. "You've a visitor from Starfleet Medical waiting for you in the
main bay, came over from the Fleming, Sir."
At that moment a frail looking individual appeared in the doorway, "What's
all the lollygaggin' about, keepin' an ole man waiting?" The hunched, white
haired man waved his stick and surveyed the room's occupants with clear blue
eyes.
Stan's arm shot out, barring the old man's entrance. He was careful about
it, considering how frail the elder looked, but nobody was stopping him from
doing his job. He glanced over at the doc.
"I don't give a damn if you're the Savior of Xenex or the president of East
Cupcake, don't ever wave anything in my face unless you want it broken,"
Cassiel snapped, bright hazel eyes shining. "Bad, bad idea."
Stan didn't quite cringe. Alright, so the guy was an admiral but the doc
didn't care. He disrespected everyone equally.
"Damn it, boy, if I'd waved it in your face you'd've known about it." The
old man eyed the marine acidly. "Drop the arm, son, I had a master teach the
nerve pinch."
"Bad idea, sir," Stan stated. He glanced over at Cassiel. The man looked
well and truly pissed.
Scowling at the pair of them the well known figure continued, "You don't
scare me, boys. I've been to Rura Penthe and the late Twentieth Century, not
to
mention sharing my head with that green blooded son a......"
Grelch cleared his throat, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him,
"May I go, sirs?
"Get out," Cassiel hissed. "I don't care for threats and I hate being
interrupted. You are disturbing my peace and the peace of everyone else in
the
place as a side effect."
As the Ferengi slipped past him the old crusader broke into a bout of wheezy
laughter. "You've got spirit young Xenexian, anyone else would have given
in because of the dang aura that hangs round me like a bad smell." He held out
a hand. "Leonard McCoy, Country Doctor."
"Grelch!" Cassiel shouted, ignoring the old man. "That was not directed at
you." The wild hazel eyes glared at the old man. "It was directed at you
and the offer still stands. You aren't the first brass monkey I've thrown out
and you won't be the last."
"Fine, son, then tell me how I'm supposed to evaluate you for SFM eh?"
"I don't give a damn about bureaucrats and rules. I'm not Fleet. Fire me
if you want. I'll go home to Xenex and be just as happy," he smirked.
McCoy fixed him with a baleful glare and moved toward the desk. "You darned
Calhouns are all alike." He cleared some phlegm from his throat. "You, son,
are the acting CMO of this flying tin can and that means you need to be
cleared by those flaming paperpushers back at HQ. Command can holler all they
like, but I'm doing this as a favour to Head of SFM herself. She knows you're
up
to the job, but she has to keep everyone happy. Get me?"
Stan's arm barred the old man from going any closer. The doc looked like he
was about to blow a fuse and that just wouldn't be pretty at all.
"Not a problem," Cassiel said coldly. He unbuttoned his jacket and tossed
it on the chair. "I quit. Private, if you'd be kind enough to escort me back
to my quarters and call Renatus..." Without another word, he stalked out.
"C'ss'l of Calhoun," the old man growled following the younger doctor, "A
quitter just because of a few bits of paper. Haven't you ever heard of things
being 'just a formality'?"
Stan grabbed Cassiel's elbow as soon as he saw the arm start to rise.
"Don't do it, Doc," he urged quietly. "You do that and I know you won't like
the
consequences."
Ignoring the old man, Cassiel stared at his escort. "Get me out of here,
Private. Now."
"Must be losing my touch, that 'quitter' line always worked on Jim. Never
mind it's the 'Fleets loss as far as I can see." McCoy muttered.
Stan escorted the doc back to Marine country and didn't bat an eye as he
stomped into his quarters. He supposed he technically didn't have to stay
there
any more, if the doc really did quit, but orders were orders. When the cap
said he was dismissed then he was dismissed. He stood at attention and
waited.
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